


Empty Space

by cassiecasyl



Series: October Prompts 2020 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Among Us (Video Game) Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Peter Parker, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, Lots of it, May is dead from the start, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter as a little crewmate, Sad Peter Parker, Sorry guys, Spaceships, The Skeld (Among Us), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whumptober 2020, You know the ones following their parent crewmates, and then getting abandoned when the adult dies, except the imposter, i should stop spoiling now, kinda? at one point, noone else dies, the warning is about that, yeah that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26903674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiecasyl/pseuds/cassiecasyl
Summary: May and Peter had hoped their time on the Skeld would be safe. But now, Peter is sitting here next to her dead body.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: October Prompts 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954552
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Empty Space

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:  
> Whumptober Day 8: Abandoned + Day 19: Grief/Mourning Loved Ones

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sure, they had heard about the imposters, and their lethal games, and about their previous appearances on the Skeld. In fact, the ship seemed to be one of their favorite hunting grounds. Peter had never understood the motivation behind trying to kill a whole crew just for fun. It was horrible. But still, they had hoped it wouldn’t happen on their trip. There were enough accounts of the Skeld making it to her destination safe and sound, and it was just damn Parker luck that this was one that wouldn’t. They hadn’t had much choice, with the Skeld being the only ship in their price range to cover their destination, and the imposters always seemed like such a faraway thing. Something that happens to other people. Not them. 

Yet, here he was, holding his aunt’s hand through their blue suits, pleading, shaking, hoping for her to respond. “May?” he asked, his voice hoarse and breaking from crying. Peter didn’t know how long he’d been here, all he knew was that he had missed the meeting following the discovery of his Aunt’s corpse.  _ His Aunt’s corpse. Aunt May is dead. _ The words still sounded faint and far away, like the whispers of a ghost. Peter couldn’t, wouldn't let them sink in. 

May was now no more than the discovery of imposters among them, a stepping stone for them to win their sick game and a clue to start the crewmates' investigation. Peter knew he should care about at least the last one, but he hadn’t been able to attend the meetings. He wanted to know who did this to her, who ripped open her body into half, who caused this unnecessary bloodshed. Who would kill an innocent bystander? Such a lovely, lively, and caring person as May? Just for fun? 

“Please, May,” he begged, “Wake up! You’re gonna miss the Kasterborous Supernova. We were so excited to see it, remember?” He felt terrible to remind her about this event only he really wanted to witness. Sure, it was a once in a lifetime thing, but May had only been as excited because he was. It seemed like such a small thing now. 

He couldn’t remember her last words. Oh god. How was he ever to know that those would be her last to him? And now he didn’t remember them. The last thing she gave him, and he simply forgot. It felt like a sacrilege. Warm tears left cold stains on his cheeks before they dropped towards the ground, wetting his suit, or landing on May’s. 

He had taken off his helmet to help him breathe. There was oxygen on the ship so he didn’t really understand the rule to wear the suit at all moments, and no one had bothered to explain it to him. Peter hadn’t dared to dismantle May’s face though, and he regretted not being able to see her. Before him lay an anonymous suit, the same color as he wore, ripped apart, and stained with drying blood. It was all too easy to convince himself that this wasn’t May. They had made a mistake, and May was still alive, in another colored suit, somewhere on this spaceship. Somewhere an imposter could lurk and just wait for the right moment to repeat the tragedy. 

Peter wanted to get up, to sprint to her and protect her, warn her, but he couldn’t move. Something had glued him on the ground, trapping him here with a dead body and his thoughts. May is dead. No. She would never laugh again, never scold him again, never mess dinner up again and then order take out. No. She would never fall asleep in front of the TV again, never bother him to eat or sleep when he was too engulfed or stressed in his work again. Nonono. Peter cried out, balled his hands against the unfairness of it all, but there was nothing to fight. 

“I larb you,” Peter remembered her to say, but her voice was all ghostly and not quite there, and it cut like reality. 

Peter’s breaths came out in gasps that never reached deep as if he was drowning in shallow saltwater. His dark blue suit was stained with blood just as May’s was, only instead of his middle, it was painting the ends of his limbs as he kneeled in the crimson puddle next to his guardian. He couldn’t breathe. The red seemed to climb up the fabric in little veins that almost looked like a spiderweb, the blue succumbing to the guilty liquid. Tears landed on them, washing some of it away, and falling to the ground tainted. Peter watched them in a trance, his ears not picking up his own wheezing gasps, and the pain in his chest only throbbing dully. 

Despite all their efforts, the veins spread and reached out to him. He didn’t know whether they were accusing him, or indicating him to be the next victim. Peter panicked at their implications yet didn’t, his emotions strangely numb to his brain’s instincts. His battling head started aching, and he felt slightly dizzy, but still, he didn’t care. Aunt May was gone, and he sat there covered in her blood like her murderer, and he hadn’t been there, and he couldn’t breathe so what if he just passed out right here? It wouldn’t be that big of a deal, would it? 

A gentle hand caught his falling body, removing him momentarily from his thoughts. He flinched away way too late, only now remembering his need to be alone. Then, with a flare of false fear, he realized that this could be the imposter. Anger bubbled up but depleted before it reached the surface, only coming out as hot air in quick breaths. Peter didn’t have the energy to fight. “Just take me,” he whispered, barely audible, and closed his eyes. He just wanted to lay down and be comforted by his Aunt May. This all was just a bad dream, right? It must be. He would wake up at any moment. This all would be over. 

“What was that?” The man in the red suit now spoke up, “I’m not the imposter, bud.” Peter opened his eyes to muster the stranger. 

“Why should I believe you?” 

The man shrugged. “You’re not dead,” he simply stated. 

“Yet,” Peter replied. 

“Look, bud, I don’t care if you believe me or not, but I’m not gonna kill you.” Peter could almost feel worried eyes staring at him, and somehow, he felt inclined to believe him. His shoulders fell as some tension left his body, and he frowned. “Mind if I join you?” The man asked yet sat down without waiting for an answer. Peter only stared at him, slightly annoyed yet strangely relieved. “How you’re doing?” He continued to inquire, but Peter simply continued his stare. He didn’t feel like talking. It would make it all true. Why was he supposed to answer anyway? Ah, yes, manners. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, was it?” He meant to faintly remember his name from the introductions earlier, “but I’d rather be alone right now. Thank you though.” 

Silence fell on them for a minute, before Mr. Stark answered. “I don’t believe that’s true,” his voice had now softened, “Something terrible just happened to you and I’m no good with emotions, but even I know that you shouldn’t just wallow here like this. It’s no good for you. Congrats on getting my name right, by the way. Tony Stark.” He offered Peter his hand, “And you are?” 

Peter blinked, trying to digest the words. They were too fast, too much, and he didn’t want them at this moment. His fingers tightened around May’s hand. “No,” Peter then spoke in a rough, yet definite voice, which sounded a bit too much like a spoiled child to him. 

“No?” Tony echoed, “Now that’s a peculiar name.” Peter shook his head. He was more there now, but he didn’t want to be. Here meant that his aunt was dead. And the man in the red suit was getting it all wrong. Or was he doing it wrong? 

“No,” he repeated, slowly, trying to let his mind catch up, “I’m Peter Parker.”

“Nice to meet you, Peter Parker. I wish it’d be under nicer circumstances though.” Peter looked back at the body next to him at that and the words cut deeply. No. It seemed his go-to word now. Too bad it wasn’t changing anything. No. May was dead. There was nothing he could do. No-no-no. He wanted to scream, and maybe he did, and the tears that had depleted under Tony’s distraction returned. “No,” he whispered, sobbed out from a body that had never felt this heavy. 

Suddenly, warm arms wrapped around him, slowly, testingly, and for some reason, Peter fell right into them. He felt safe here. Why? “May?” he asked weakly, but she was lying there in front of him, unrecognizable, motionless, dead. 

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Tony whispered, rubbing soothing circles over his back, “Was she your mom?” It was Tony, Peter then realized. Tony who comforted him, just a kind stranger. Yet why did he feel so safe? 

“Aunt,” Peter corrected before burying his face in the stranger’s chest, fighting another sob. Soothing warmth engulfed him, but he was so cold and far away. It barely had a chance against the spikes of pain that were working their way through Peter, again and again, only to pause for a little while before hitting again. 

“Shh,” Tony shushed him, rocking them slightly back and forth, “Just let it out. It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not,” Peter replied through a hiccup of tears, “It’s never gonna be okay.” 

“No,” He agreed. Peter halted a moment as Tony used his word before remembering that words belonged to nobody. He was just being selfish. Another sob rattled through his body that never seemed to run out of tears. 

After a while, Peter calmed down again. For a moment, he remained where he was, not ready to move yet. Then, he sat up, purposefully avoiding to look at the dead body. “Sorry,” he said, brushing his hand against his running nose. 

“Don’t apologize, kid. It seemed like you really needed to cry it out. You know, crying floods some stress hormones out, which makes you feel better, or something like that. Bruce could explain it to you. He’s the one in the green suit.” 

“Neat.” 

They sat in silence, neither of them willing to move even if only to not sit in blood anymore. Peter was perfectly content on being here, well, as content as he could be at this moment, and Tony was just there to grant him company. His hands still trembled from time to time though, which did not go unnoticed. 

After watching them for a while, Tony reached out to take Peter’s hands, stilling them. “They caught him. Thought you wanted to know,” he said, carefully observing Peter’s reaction. 

“Who was it?” Peter suppressed the anger in his voice almost successfully as grief overtook him again. The one who did this would pay for it. They’d meet justice, just as they deserved. Still, he was angry, he wanted to punch whoever it was, wanted to scream at them, and above all, he wanted to ask why. Why May of all people? 

“Some ugly guy named Thanos. He was in the purple suit.” Peter nodded. 

“What’s gonna happen to him?” 

“Already did. They threw him out of the spacecraft. Standard procedure for found imposters.” Tony shrugged slightly while Peter imagined the freezing coldness of space, the absence of air, the nothingness. Floating there, freezing to death in minutes. He shuttered. 

“That’s terrible.” 

“Yeah” Tony agreed, looking at the kid who had sympathy for his aunt’s murderer. Before, Tony had thought him too young to lose a parental figure, but now he seemed too good to ever have that happen to him. “If you want, you can help me with my tasks,” he offered, delighted to see some light reappear in the teen’s eyes. 

“That’d be nice. I was helping May, but, you know…,” he stilled, waiting for the tears to come, but they seemed to have run out for now. Tony nodded and stood up, holding a hand out to help Peter up. 

“I think a change of scenery will do you good,” he decided, “but first, you gotta abide by the dress code.” At Peter’s confused expression, Tony pointed at the helmet that lay forgotten on the floor. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](https://cassiecasyl.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Comment? Please?


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